


Flowers for a ghost

by marymerthur



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sherlock Holmes Returns after Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 14:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marymerthur/pseuds/marymerthur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson is going every day to Sherlock's grave, but one thing he doesn't know is that Sherlock sees him and hears him every time he goes. Ever day, John prays to Sherlock to come back and one day, Sherlock fulfills his wish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The action takes place one year after the Reichenbach Fall. 
> 
> I hope you will like it and please comment and leave kudos. [ I accept any kind of critics and suggestions] The story is written from Sherlock's perspective so I would really like to know if I messed it up or not.

Another day when all I was doing was staying and hear him crying. It has passed more than a year and it wasn’t day when he wouldn’t come to my grave. Sometimes I asked why. I wasn’t a hero, or a memorable person, not even a person. “You machine!” he told me when he last looked me in the eyes. So why was he staying there, mourning someone who wasn’t dead, knowing that I am alive? My brain was playing with my thoughts, with my memories and everything I was seeing were his eyes, those eyes which I haven’t seen in a while and I ache for them. 

I took a deep breath, telling myself that showing up in front of him would do nothing but destroy myself, by killing him. If he knew that I was alive, so did Moriarty’s people. A year passed and I am sure that in one of these trees one of Moriarty’s snipers was waiting for me to stand out by a wrong move and kill John. And that was the only risk I couldn’t bear to take. Seeing John dead was like seeing myself in a broken mirror with pieces missing. I glanced at him, a smile appeared on my face and even though I wanted go there, tell him I am alive and explain him what happened a year ago, I chose to stay hidden behind a tree. 

But I got closer. I couldn’t help it. I saw him changing the water of the flowers he put yesterday, even if the flowers weren’t faded away. He lighted up a candle and went near my gravestone. He tried not to cry, but he couldn’t help it. “You didn’t change, my friend”, I whisper only for me and for my thoughts, with whom I had talked during this year. Then, I hear him say the words he said every day in the last year.

“I just hope you come behind me and when I turn, I see your eyes and your smile and hear you talking. You know, I miss running from the police, being your hostage. I even enjoyed being your experiment.” 

“I want you to explain me one thing, Sherlock. Why didn’t you tell me about Moriarty? About your plan of killing yourself, about everything? Didn’t you trust me enough?” – I kept saying with him because I already knew every word. “Why did you lie to me?” I continue. He skipped a part. He was supposed to say more things, but suddenly he stopped and said other things which were strangers to my ears. 

“Maybe you are listening. If not, then, I guess I am on my own and people will start talking more about us as a couple. You know, I don’t care anymore. They can say everything they want about us, because it doesn’t matter, because I know the truth and you, wherever you are, know it too. We were more than roommates, more than a couple, more than anything.” – he paused as he wiped away a tear from his cheek with a smile on his face. “And because of this I want to tell you that ...” – he stopped, looking around, searching for my shadow, seeking for my presence. When he didn’t find it, he looked again at my gravestone, gently touched it where my name was written and then he stepped back. It seemed like the words that were to come from his throat were the ones that would hurt me the most. At first he didn’t say anything, but when I made a step to go near him, I heard him taking a deep breath as if he was ready to continue. 

“...that I am getting married.” 

In that moment my heart grew heavier. I felt like a sword was put in my chest, but I still smiled. I was glad that he found someone with whom to live the rest of his life and for a second I thought he finally moved on. I saw him leaving and I couldn’t do anything to stop him. John looked back at my gravestone and came back, touching carefully my name. 

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll show up.” – I heard him murmur. Then he left without looking back heading forward, leaving the graveyard.

*******  


The next day, at the same hour he was back at my sepulchre. I thought that if he was getting married he would move on. He brought fresh flowers, throwing the other ones away, but this time he didn’t light up a candle. The one from yesterday was still flaming up, but he blew it out. I stayed there, without doing any move that could tell him I was there. He started throwing away the flowers – the new ones and the ones from yesterday – and the candles as he looked around, seeking for my eyes.

“I am not going to light up candles and bring flowers for someone who isn’t dead. This is a trick, Sherlock. I know it is. And you fooled me enough. One year was enough, Sherlock! I can see the beam on your face when you see me like a fool coming and praying for you not to be dead, bringing flowers, lightning up candles. It must be a hell of a show, isn’t it?” – he started yelling and after he paused for a second, he continued. “You are not playing with my mind anymore. You are going to stop making me believe that every time the telephone calls is you saying you are alive and every time the doorbell rings I run believing it’s you. You are going to show up. Moriarty is dead; his people don’t have a new boss. You are safe! You can come home, Sherlock.” – he continued yelling, making my heart beat faster and faster as he continued begging me to show up. 

After a few moments, I stepped forward, going near my own gravestone, touching the place where my name was written. **Sherlock Holmes** , I read and my lips curve into a grin. I wait more than one minute and when I look, I see John alive, staying with the back at me, trying to calm himself. A look back was enough for me to see me, but he didn’t look back. Maybe he didn’t have the courage, maybe he felt my presence. I looked again at the name on the gravestone and I feel like it belonged to a stranger. I saw John walking forward, not taking a look back. I saw him shaking his head as he continued walking. 

“John.” – I said, neither yelling, nor loud. And I saw him turning back, meeting my look.

I could feel his heart beating slower and slower, but I knew he couldn’t bear dying in this moment. I did nothing, but curve my lips into a smile, keeping my hand on my gravestone. John came closer and when he was close enough to me he put his hand on mine. Our hearts started beating faster and faster. 

“You are alive” – he whispered and I felt his doubt that I heard. “You are alive” – he said again, louder this time, but he didn’t know I heard him from the first time. “You are alive” – John continued looking me in the eyes, waiting for an answer; an answer I didn’t give him. 

John sighed and took his hand from mine. “So, you show up here, standing in front of me, looking at me like I am a stranger and you don’t say a word. You don’t say anything and you expect me doing what? Applaud? Giving you a prize for being the best trickster ever?” 

I didn’t recognize him. He was right. I was just standing there doing nothing but glaze at him. “No. I don’t need a prize from you, John Watson. I have already given one to myself.” I walked towards him, but when I got close enough, I chose to pass by. 

John took my arm and stopped me. “And what are you doing now? Going away? Making a new life, maybe – “ I stopped him by started talking. “As you did?” He glanced at me, but didn’t say anything. At first I wanted to laugh, but then I remembered: John was getting married. 

“What was this year for you, John? Coming at my sepulchre, bringing flowers, lightning up candles, faking tears? Was it all for keeping the appearance? Was it for proving to the few people you know that you are in pain for losing your best friend?” – I say without caring I was hurting his emotions. 

“It was for me”, he paused trying to let words come out of his throat, “because I knew you are here. I felt your presence. I knew that if I told anyone Moriarty’s people would know and that would mean my death. Sherlock, I understand why you stayed hidden all this time, but look, I am alive and you are alive. Let’s go back home. There is no one around, Sherlock.” 

I guffawed. “You can’t think that, John. In these trees, these trees around us, they are train their weapons upon us. In that corner, or that one, or at the entrance there is one man who can kill you in less than a second. When they want, when they receive command, they can make you lie here dead in front of me. And that’s a thing neither of us want.” 

John looked at me like I was talking non sense and for a second I thought the same. “Receiving command from whom? Moriarty is dead, Sherlock! Who would want you dead?” – he asked confused. “The person who would want revenge” – I answered swiftly. 

He raised an eyebrow and took my hand. “There is no one here, Sherlock.” In that moment a sound of a shot destroyed the silence. I put myself in front of John, closed my eyes and waited for my life to leave this body. I heard John breathing faster and I took his hand into mine, trying to calm him down. “Sherlock...”, I heard him murmur, but I quickly made him shut up but putting my hand on his mouth. We looked at each other for a second and I breathed relieved because the sound disappeared and the silence lay upon the graveyard again. 

I am not hurt. I don’t feel blood running from my body, but I am not sure about John. “Are you injured?” – I ask him in a whisper. He shook his head and I removed my hand from his mouth as I stepped back. “They missed”, John said. “They were supposed to miss”, I continue looking around, knowing that I wasn’t going to find anything. 

Jon stayed there, without moving, looking at the bullet which was an inch far from him. He breathed, scared. “Why did you come out now? Why not before?” I looked at him and I smiled. “This is what you wanted, right? Me, being behind you.” 

John looked more confused than he ever did. “Sherlock, I wanted this every day from this whole year. Why now?” I glance at him and I don’t know what to answer. “I wanted to congratulate you. You are getting married. Isn’t it what friends are supposed to do?”

John put his look down and I saw that he didn’t expect me to say that. “Congratulations.” I went and hugged him, but he didn’t hug me back. He just stayed there, almost crying. 

“Thanks” – he said trying not to cry, staying there, in my arms like he never wanted to go. 

“So, who is the girl who laid eyes upon you?” I say with a smirk, but the only answer I get back is “Can we not talk about this, please, Sherlock?” I stared at him. “Why? Isn’t she important? You don’t marry someone who isn’t important for you. At the TV is like this.” 

“Life is not a show on TV, Sherlock!” – John yelled at me. “I am not getting married, Sherlock!” I looked at him and putting my hands into the pockets from my trench coat I said “I know. You wouldn’t spend more than an hour standing at my grave saying the same things every day. If you were to get married than you would have some papers, business cards, telephone numbers, a mobile if anyone calls you to give you information. You don’t and you always look the same, no one is bringing you. You come with a cab and you leave with one. You didn’t move, you still leave at 221B because of the keys in your pocket. Why did you lie?” 

John stared at me, but for a moment he didn’t say anything. Yes, I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it from his mouth. “It was the only way to make you come out” – he finally said and I beamed. “Why are you smiling?” I turned my back and looking at my gravestone, I put my look down. “Because I know. I know everything you said every day. I was saying it with you. You are my only friend, John.” He came near me and put a hand on my shoulder trying to make me look at him; but I didn’t. 

“Then why didn’t you come out? Why did you wait for me to invent a lie?” 

“I wanted to see what you will make up.” – I said swiftly. 

“That’s not true” – he quickly cut my words. “When you are answering that quickly without having the courage to look me in the eyes, then you are lying. Staying with the mighty   
Sherlock Holmes had its advantages. I have learned a lot from you.” 

“FINE!” – I screamed louder than I have ever done. “I wanted a reason. Something that could give me enough courage to make a step forward and come to you, something that could make me explain you why I didn’t tell you, why I faked my own death, why I did everything! And you, saying you were getting married and live happily ever after, made me realize that you deserve at least some words with me. So here I am, standing in front you. Ask me anything.” 

“Sherlock you don’t have to do –“ 

“I told you to ask me anything” – I quickly interrupt him. 

John sighed and I could hear him thinking. After a few moments he came in front of me and put a hand on my cheek. “Will you come back to 221B? Will you come home?” 

I stepped back, leaving his hand fall in the air and land near his body which was now like a puppet. For a second I thought he wasn’t breathing anymore as his eyes kept staring at me without saying a word. His lips were straight and became pale and his face was showing no emotion. It looked like he was lost in his own universe. It looked like I destroyed every world where he could be alive. 

“John...” I started, but before I could say anything he continued. “It is okay, Sherlock. I understand. You don’t want to come. I don’t mind, really. I...I understand” – he said and then he nodded. He looked at the clock and then at me. “Ummm, I have to go. I promised Mrs. Hudson that I will help her to clean the loft. I am already late.” 

“You are lying. Mrs. Hudson never cleans the loft on Mondays.” 

“Does it really matter?” – he said on a non-caring tone. 

I shook my head and I saw him passing besides me. After he made two steps he stopped. “See? You could be that clever.” I smile. “It’s about routine.” I could hear his sigh, a disappointed one. “Goodbye, Sherlock.” 

He started walking, his feet making noise on the grass and I started walking in the opposite direction, playing with the keys of 221B in my pocket.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock always thought of going back to Baker Street. It was his home. While he was heading there, he received a call.

That was the first night in the past year when I wasn’t in the graveyard; the first night when I buried Sherlock Holmes for good. I was still playing with the keys from my apart...John’s apartment when I saw his disappointed face leaving. What was he thinking about me right in this moment? Was he sleeping with half of the blanket on the floor because he was too hot and yet the sound of the cars passing on the road disturbed him enough to open the window? Or maybe he was just drinking a coffee, reading a book, sitting in his armchair, waiting for the door to open. “I did what was right.” – I mumble and people were staring at me while I was walking on the streets of unchanged London. 

“Yes. I am alive. Go and give report to the news. By tomorrow morning, everyone shall know.” – I say louder and I ensured some people heard me. And then I remembered the gun shot from the graveyard. I crippled for a moment, recalling the scene. The bullet was perfectly aimed at John, but they missed on purpose. Someone gave them command to miss, but who? Moriarty was dead and that was a thing I was sure. I saw it with my own eyes. He died right in front of. I saw the blood running from his head. But it was still too easy. He was right there, it couldn’t be a trick. Who would want to revenge such a miserable man as Moriarty? I shook my head and I headed to Baker Street. 

“Some of his puppets of course, one of them loved Moriarty enough to want to revenge him after a year.” – I said as I took the phone from my pocket as I heard it ringing. I looked for a second at it and I realized it was the one Moriarty gave me. I grinned and I looked at the number. _Unknown_. At first I didn’t answer, but then it called again. I answered, but I didn’t say anything. 

“I know you are there, Mr. Holmes. I can hear you breathing” 

The voice was unknown to me. I have never heard it before. 

“Since you are not so talkative, I will talk for you too. I am watching your baby tiger sleeping. How about giving him the opportunity to sleep forever? I think you will love him more with a bullet in his head. Or maybe between his eyes?” – the man said, enjoying every word.

“Stop it.” 

“Oh, the great Sherlock Holmes rose from the dead and he is giving me orders. Let me tell you that you are not convincing at all. How did you manage to get a friend around you and keep him near you? I think that was a record.” 

“Your words don’t impress me and know that I am running out of time. What –“ 

“I can assure you that your tiger is running out of time. Me, being separated by an inch from the trigger and you, kilometers distance. I am wondering who will get there first.” – the man started laughing and I knew that this conversation wouldn’t end with everyone alive. 

“Look, he has done nothing wrong. Your problem is with me, not with him.” 

“Oh...You think that I don’t have a weapon trained upon you? For the first time in your life in your life you don’t feel you are watched. Big mistake, Sherlock.” 

“Then kill me. What are you waiting? Command? From whom?” – I said angrily. 

“Too many questions for one minute, my dear.” – he paused for a second. “Know that I work alone. I don’t need command from anyone. If I wanted, you, together with your – whatever he is for you – would have been dead by now and your corpses burned somewhere no one could find them.” 

“And yet, I am still alive. Why?” – I ask, my voice not being afraid even though my bones were shivering inside me. “Because you are not the one I want to kill. You have to suffer as well as I did and maybe, after a year, you will go to sleep and won’t wake up!” – the man continued immediately.

“Do you really think I am afraid of dying? After this year, do you really think that it matters for me if I wake up in the morning or not?” Everything I said was the truth. John left thinking I don’t want to stay with him, I don’t have where to go and my mind takes care to remember me what a mistake I have done. “So shoot me. Between the eyes. Your bullet will assort best with my blue eyes. What are you waiting for?” I heard his laughing and if he was like Moriarty I could see him shaking his head. 

“Do you really think it’s going to be that easy? Sherlock, you disappoint me” – he said finally and in his words I could hear Moriarty’s voice. I kept walking to 221B so that people could stop staring. “Stop there or I kill him” – he suddenly said. 

“Would you kill him without giving him a chance to defend himself? Would you kill him without letting anyone try to save him? This is how Moriarty trained you?” – I say and after I ensured he was not going to shoot me I continued. 

“Your problem is not with him, Moriarty’s puppet. Your problem is with me. He loves life, I don’t. People already know I am dead. So finish the thing that I didn’t have courage to do.” I put my look down and took a deep breath. I closed my eyes and waited for the bullet to take the life out of me. Instead, all I heard was the man’s voice. “You have 45 seconds to get to him. If you don’t, I am going to kill him. A tiger for a tiger. You’d better run.” 

I stay there crippled. “What –“ 

**“44, 43, 42...”**

I dropped the phone and started running, pushing everyone who stayed in my way. I wasn’t talking to the man anymore, but I could still hear his voice, when I was counting. **“40, 39...”** I ran faster and faster and I arrived on a street I didn’t recognize. I went to a woman and quickly asked her where I should go. I didn’t understand anything because all I was hearing was the man’s voice counting. So I just ran, ran till I saw Baker Street. **“10, 9...”** I kept running and at first I couldn’t find my keys. I tried to calm my mind, but I didn’t succeed. Not when it was about John’s life. I pushed the door using my leg and ran on the stairs. When passing, I heard Mrs. Hudson asking who was there, but I didn’t care. I wanted to stop to take a breath. All I needed was a second and my mind, using the voice of that man, kept telling me that second could be John’s life. So I didn’t stop running and before I opened the door I heard a shot. 

I crippled. “No, no, no, no, this can’t happen. No.” – I yelled and then I opened the door. Silence was ruling the apartment. John wasn’t making any noise. “How could I be so stupid to let him leave back at the grave yard? How could I even think that, once they knew, Moriarty’s people would let him live? I should have come with him! I shouldn’t have let him die!” I hit the armchair that used to be mine and put my hands through my hair trying to think what I was going to do now. First, I let a tear fall on my cheek, but I erased it quickly. I sighed and when I was about to live, I heard something. John’s body, I thought immediately. I opened the door of his bedroom quietly like he was still alive. I looked at his body half covered with the blanket and I smiled seeing that he hasn’t changed. His body was moving up and down, which meant he was breathing. I saw him trying to find a comfortable position and after a few seconds he did. I grinned and I looked on the window where I could see the sniper trained upon him, but when I tried to see the man who was holding it, all I was able to see was a shadow and then a smile. An ironic smile who was almost talking to me. When I tried to understand what that smile meant John’s mobile phone rang. I swiftly took it and got out of the room. I sat on my armchair and looked at the message. 

_“This time, I let him go. Don’t think I missed. I never miss. And also, don’t think next time neither you, nor him are going to be so lucky – SM.”_ I had no idea who the man was but when I went to the window to see him, he was gone. I looked at the clock on the wall – the one I gave John last Christmas – and I smiled when I saw he kept it. It was almost morning so I didn’t want to go and try getting some sleep because I knew that was not going to happen, or staying wondering who that man was and how he was related to Moriarty so I just sat on my armchair took John’s laptop and started reading his blog.

While reading it, a lot of memories came through my mind. _“He said I was his hostage. Can you imagine? Yeah, his friend, his accomplice. I would have waited this from Sherlock Holmes. But his hostage? That was unexpected. So he put a gun to my head and in a second we were running from the police, holding hands.”_ I smile when I remember that night. I didn’t realize how fast the time passed and I realized it was morning when a ray of sunshine made the carpet get life. I put the laptop away and I made some coffee for me and for John. 

It was 6:30 and I knew that John was going to be awake soon. I took my coffee and John’s laptop and continued reading. After half an hour the door from his bedroom opened and here he was, standing in front of me without saying anything. I was glad he was alive because I realized he meant everything to me and if he were dead I wouldn’t know what to do with my life. He didn’t ask me why I was back because he already knew the answer; so did I. He smiled and I smiled back, glancing at him. “You should reactivate the blog”, I said after we stared at each other for more than a couple of minutes. He nodded and then came next to me. 

“Did anything out of the ordinary happen? Something I should know?” I shook my head as an answer and he took the laptop from my arms. I looked discreetly at what he was doing and I saw he reactivated the blog. He turned off the laptop and put his hand over mine. 

He wanted to say something, but then the doorbell rang. 

“A single ring” – he said, making me smile. 

“Maximum pressure, just under the half second” 

“Client!” – we say together and we start laughing. 

I jumped from the armchair and went to open the door.


End file.
